Текст Cdot Honcho – Honcho Style 2
Текст:
C.D.O.T., man! Honcho gang shit, bitch!
Honcho Honcho Honcho… aye, aye
Honcho Honcho Honcho
Bitch I got Gucci, Louie, Fendi, Ferragamo, all that
Pour fours and simplies, we got 50’s, foe nem empty all that
Matter of fact, I be where the bread at
Haters acting up, where the fuck his head at
Four nick beam, where his head at
Watch his brain hit the floor, put a flame to the door
Hollow gang, I just came from the crib
Matter fact with yo bitch, and came from in home
Bitch I’m in sacks, I been getting that back
While I just want racks right straight from shoulders
Bitch I’m Honcho, and I’m straight finna go, gotta stay with my nine, gotta stay on my line
Hit the bitch that I shake all the time, cause you know I gotta run to the cake half the time
Ayye, pull up in a STR8 but I’m late half the time
Hit the gas two times, and swear to God this bitch might wheelie one time
20k in my jeans and these hoes like damn, can I lick it one time
Bitch I’m not tryna stick it in no time, I’m tryna take a picture one time
I’ma pull up, I’ma hop out, I’ma fuck a hoe, tell that hoe hop out
I be smelling like ounces when I pop out, 40 cal., take a lil nigga top off
Damn, I’m somewhere getting topped off, eyes low, got me smoking on hot sauce
Put a red dot on him like Randolph, I mean Rudolph, I’m in a two door with a new hoe
Smoking on that sumo, not lil bro, that super strong
AK clips be super long
Run up, he be super gone, yo bitch she got that super throat
Get that top then send her home where she belong, you know that bitch can’t stay long
Honcho wanna count racks, yo bitch she steady calling back
Hit that bitch, don’t send her back, I mean send her back, I don’t hit her back, that’s what I mean
Two hundred for these fucking jeans, naw man these like four hundred, four some, five some, bitch my shoes like nine some
Matter of fact, I be where the bread at
Haters acting up, where the fuck his head at
Four nick beam, where his head at
Watch his brain hit the floor, put a flame to the door
Hollow gang, I just came from the crib
Matter fact with yo bitch, and came from in home
Bitch I’m in sacks, I been getting that back
While I just want racks right straight from shoulders
Bitch I’m Honcho, and I’m straight finna go, gotta stay with my nine, gotta stay on my line
Hit the bitch that I shake all the time, cause you know I gotta run to the cake half the time
Ayye, pull up in a STR8 but I’m late half the time
Hit the gas two times, and swear to God this bitch might wheelie one time
20k in my jeans and these hoes like damn, can I lick it one time
Bitch I’m not tryna stick it in no time, I’m tryna take a picture one time
I’ma pull up, I’ma hop out, I’ma fuck a hoe, tell that hoe hop out
I be smelling like ounces when I pop out, 40 cal., take a lil nigga top off
Damn, I’m somewhere getting topped off, eyes low, got me smoking on hot sauce
Put a red dot on him like Randolph, I mean Rudolph, I’m in a two door with a new hoe
Smoking on that sumo, not lil bro, that super strong
AK clips be super long
Run up, he be super gone, yo bitch she got that super throat
Get that top then send her home where she belong, you know that bitch can’t stay long
Honcho wanna count racks, yo bitch she steady calling back
Hit that bitch, don’t send her back, I mean send her back, I don’t hit her back, that’s what I mean
Two hundred for these fucking jeans, naw man these like four hundred, four some, five some, bitch my shoes like nine some
Wit these clips, we be lying some, long mag, can’t find none, always funding these fucking hundreds, bitch
Honcho Honcho Honcho
All off the top of the head shit, man
I ain’t lying, muh-fuckas be lying when they be saying shit
On foe-nem, aye
Honcho Honcho Honcho
